No 7
by Quirky999
Summary: '7. Have sex in someone else's kitchen' It's cold, they're in Serbia, and Jenny as deemed it soup weather. Oneshot, tag to cosmopolitan.


_A/N I had a bad week-just go with it._

_Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS_

* * *

They were in a safe house-Decker's safe house- in Serbia, just outside of Belgrade…and it was damn cold. As a result, Jennifer Shepard, being the resourceful person she is, deemed it 'soup weather'; and embarked on a mission the generate something moderately soup-like from their dwindling supplies.

'See ya, Jenny.' Yelled Decker as he strode purposfully toward the door, engulfed in a huge Jacket and snow boots; a green beanie completed the look.

'Not. So. Fast…' He grudgingly slowed and turned to face her, her green eyes piercing. 'You don't have to leave until tomorrow, none of us do, and I'm making soup.' Her co-worker eyed the grayish concoction, bubbling slowly in the pot wearily.

'Ah…lovely. Soup.' The glare he received could've burnt holes through his head. 'Don't worry, I'll be back in time for dinner, I was just dropping this off at the post office.' Decker held up an envelope. However, the innocent tone that accompanied this statement didn't fool Jenny, and she regarded him suspiciously.

'Get your ass back here by seven.' He nodded and headed out. 'I mean it!' she yelled after him. She knew that she wasn't the best cook in the world, but it wasn't that bad, was it? She had been at it for an hour now, and the involvement of any fire-extinguishers had not yet been required. Now that was an achievement on its own.

* * *

Jethro, who had been out retrieving case files the night before, was fast asleep on the couch in the tiny living room in the cabin. He had been having a-for lack of a more adequate word- pleasant dream…involving Jen naked. Yup, this defiantly classified as a 'pleasant' dream; until he was rudely awoken by the most obnoxious odor he had ever had the misfortune of smelling. He groaned and set out to determine the source of said odor.

He entered the kitchen, and the scene that welcomed him was one of most quaint domesticity. Jenny was standing beside the large wood stove, stirring a pot with a huge wooden spoon; dressed in a floral apron, her crimson hair cascading down her shoulders. For some reason this got to him…and certain parts of his anatomy. Only Jen could look sexy while in an oversized anorak and an apron. It wasn't her usual sexy. He couldn't deny that he loved her in lingerie, but this was more natural.

He had never seen her cook before (and that scent told him why); it was so… _housewife-ish!_ And strangely enough, it suited her.

He came up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist. Jen tilted her head so he could kiss her neck; she smirked at what she felt pressing into her lower back and turned in his arms, so that this was no longer a one-man-show. Jethro attacked her mouth with his, enjoying the ever present taste of coffee on her lips, and another flavor that he couldn't place exactly. He simply associated it with Jen. He pulled her closer by her hair and she let out a low moan as he began to work his way down her jaw, and leaned her head back so he had better access to her neck.

Her small hands unzipped his coat and pushed it off his shoulders: he reciprocated the act and began to peel the layers off her, one by one, somehow managing not to break the kiss; one that was becoming increasingly urgent. Jethro explored the newly exposed skin with his mouth, nipping at her shoulders and kissing down her chest. Jen was forever surprising him: even in this weather, she still had matching red bra and thong. Noticing that she had less on than he did, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled it over his head-quite violently at that.

Jethro hitched her up, her legs wrapping round his waist instinctively, and turned to lay her down underneath him on the closest flat surface, that just happened to be the kitchen table. For a moment he hovered above her, taking in the sight (the horrific smell and the cold nowhere near the forefront of either of their minds by this stage.) Red hair splayed out; skin pearly white; emerald eyes dark with desire…need.

Impatiently she reached down to shove his jeans off his hips, her hand brushing him in a way that was just short of satisfying. He growled, a deep feral sound, and reached behind her to un-hook her bra and threw it carelessly behind them. Jen's breath was shallow, and it hitched as his mouth latched onto her nipple, playing…teasing. She gasped as his mouth traveled downward; her muscles quivered under his touch. Her nails digging into his biceps, he placed soft, feathery kisses up her inner thighs. He pushed her pants down, divesting her of her last defense-not that she minded. Using her fingers that were twisted in his hair, Jen pulled his head up so she could kiss him. Hard, and demanding…the sort of kiss that took him almost to breaking point.

'What are you waiting for?' she gasped in his ear. Jethro, not one to deny a woman what she wanted, slipped into her. He groaned as she arched her back.

'Faster' He complied, kissing her collar bone, while she bit down hard on his shoulder. 'Oh my…Jethro!' she cried out sharply as her orgasm wracked her body. Jethro felt her contract around him, and he let himself go as she came, burying his head in her neck.

* * *

They lay there for a minute, both panting, until the memory of the soup and the cold penetrated their thoughts.

'I have to stir the soup…' Jenny said, stroking his hair. He nodded, and heaved himself off her, so that she could get up and start sorting out the disarray of garments that littered the kitchen floor; getting dressed and throwing what didn't belong to her at Jethro. 'Do you see my bra?'

'_That _is soup?' He wrinkled his nose.

'Yes.' She replied absentmindedly. '…Jethro? The bra?'

'Haven't seen it.' At that moment, Decker came in, rubbing his hands together because of the cold.

'Hey guys. How the soup coming, Jenny?' He said, trying his best to be polite and ignore the repugnant smell that the now greenish goop was giving off.

'Good. It's actually ready…if you two would grab a bowel…' she said, shooting a panicked look at Jethro.

* * *

Jethro was glaring at his 'soup', apparently trying to will it to drink itself. Decker had a different tactic for operation soup-riddance, and was eating it very fast, obviously trying to swallow before he tasted it, until out of the depths of his bowel, hanging by one strap came a disfigured, soup covered red lace bra. Decker froze mid soup-guzzle.

'Uhhh…Jenny? Is this some kind of special ingredient?' He looked apprehensively at the object.

Jen pursed her lips and flushed red. She took the thing from him and glared at Jethro, who had very cleverly chosen to ignore the situation. 'Yes,_ Jethro_, is this some kind of special ingredient?' He looked up slowly, and not knowing quite what would be appropriate to do in this situation, settles for his signature smirk.

That was when Decker seemed to realize what the unidentified object was. He eyes grew wide and disbelieving. 'No…you?...You and…' he pointed between his two co-workers. 'You…IN MY KITCHEN!'

* * *

_A/N I actually researched Serbia-that has to count for something. I'm really not sure about this one...like I said, this is me venting. Let me know what you think :) Pretty please? :)_


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